Give A Little
by wtchcraft
Summary: She only gave a little, but to him, it felt like one helluva lot. In which an unimaginable friendship blossoms between Hogwart's favourite know-it-all and bat of the dungeons. AU seventh year. Dumbledore lives.


**Chapter One**

* * *

 **SHE OPENED** the door to find him there, shaking, as he clutched his forehead in pain. Before she could even process what was happening, his body started trembling. Every movement frantic, accompanied by a guttural groan.

It was enough to snap her out whatever haze she was in.

"Harry!" cried Hermione, rushing forward to grab a hold of her friend. She caught him just in time before his limbs gave out, and he fell deathly still into her arms. Breathing heavily, Hermione held him as tightly as she could. With a quivering hand, she checked his pulse and was relieved to find the slow but steady beat of his heart. It didn't matter that he was crushing her with his weight. All that mattered was that he was safe.

Thankfully, they were in Sirius's old bedroom, and the bed wasn't too far out of reach. Now, if only she could manoeuvre him there without running out of breath herself. Carefully, she supported Harry's weight with her own, but again, found that it was too much.

Gone was the scrawny, messy-haired boy she had met in her first year at Hogwarts, and in his place was now a fairly broad sixteen-year-old, well on his way to becoming one of the greatest wizards of all time. While Hermione was incredibly thankful for his transformation (if anybody needed a boost of confidence, it was Harry), his muscular weight was too overwhelming for someone of her thin frame to support all on her own. She needed some help.

"Ron," she called out, as loudly as possible. She knew he'd be able to hear her, after all, his room was just next door. "Ron! Get in here, I need your help!"

Minutes later, the redhead appeared, clad in his Chudley Cannons pyjamas. "Yes, Hermione? What is it?" he asked, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes. Upon the sound of Hermione clearing her throat, he looked up in confusion. It took him a moment to register the scene in front of him; Hermione struggling to stand upright with Harry dangling in her arms, and he quickly sobered up.

Without another word, he sprang into action, running over to Harry's other side, and relieving the weight off Hermione's aching shoulders. Together, they managed to lift Harry onto the bed and under the covers, where he laid unconscious.

There was a moment of silence. Hermione placed her hands on her knees and caught her breath. Eventually, Ron spoke up, "What happened?"

"I - I don't really know," Hermione answered truthfully. "I was just checking up on him because he seemed so distressed at dinner, and when I knocked on his door, there was no response. I knew he couldn't be asleep so I let myself in, and when I opened the door, he was convulsing nonstop."

Ron took a deep, shaky breath and asked, "What else did you see?"

She hadn't noticed that she was trembling herself until Ron had placed a steady hand on her shoulder, and gave it a squeeze. Hermione threw him a tired smile and said, "Well, he was clutching his scar in pain, as if it had stung him. Then, before I knew it, he collapsed into my arms."

"Shit." Ron's eyes widened in sudden realisation. "Do - Do you think he had another one of _those_ visions?" he asked in a tone that suggested he was afraid of the answer.

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself. She too, was afraid of what it possibly meant. "I think so. I mean, what else could it be? This hasn't happened in a while - not since fifth year - only this seems much worse. He's never fully lost consciousness before."

She watched as Ron sat on the edge of Harry's bed. With tired eyes, he scrutinised the red lightning bolt on Harry's temple. "I thought _You-Know-Who_ gave up on the whole mind-invading business. Didn't Dumbledore claim that he felt too threatened by Harry's powerful emotions?"

"Something along those lines. But circumstances may have changed," said Hermione, her mind racing with all kinds of theories. "I think we should tell Dumbledore about this. He'll know what to do."

"Are you sure that's wise?" asked Ron, still gazing at his unconscious best friend. "I mean I'm all for Dumbledore stepping in and helping Harry out, but don't you remember what happened the last time? Occlumency lessons with Snape. Ring any bells for you?"

Hermione sighed and sat down next to him. "I agree that things weren't handled as well as they should have been, but they are so much more different now. The Order is fully active. Dumbledore has finally stopped talking in enough riddles to let Harry know the truth about horcruxes. With enough help, Harry can master occlumency and erase Voldemort out of his mind for good."

"You're right. It is a good idea. I'm just worried that Snape will give Harry a hard time, is all," he said. Much like his patronus, Ron was ever the loyal friend.

"We won't let it come to that," said Hermione insistently. "We're already of age, and soon enough Harry will be, too. Therefore, we need to be treated like adults, and that includes respect. If Snape refuses to respect us, then we'll refuse to work with him. And if Dumbledore thinks that's a bad idea, he'll have no choice but to step in."

Ron hummed. "I suppose that's true. Although, after recent events I'm convinced the old bat doesn't hate us as much as he lets on."

Hermione had the same suspicion, herself. A couple of weeks ago, the trio were using Extendable Ears to eavesdrop on yet another Order meeting when they had been caught by the dour professor. He was the last person to attend the meeting, with his usual round-the-clock tardiness. Instead of reprimanding them as they had expected, or pulling a Molly Weasley and confiscating the device, Snape simply turned a blind eye to their snooping and walked away, even leaving the door slightly ajar so they could catch every word. This out of character gesture completely baffled them to no end, and to this day, they continued to speculate why he had helped them.

"The feeling's mutual," said Hermione, glancing out the dingy glass-paned window. She noticed it was nearing twilight and already she felt the pounding sensation of a headache, no doubt from her lack of sleep.

"How long do you think he'll be out for?"

"Not sure. I'll give it until the morning," said Hermione, laying down beside Harry and tucking herself under the covers. On Harry's other side, Ron did the same.

"We'll let him explain himself when he wakes up," said Ron, with a yawn, "then we'll go to Dumbledore and tell him everything."

No sooner than finishing his sentence had he dozed off to sleep. Hermione was slightly envious of his ability to sleep at any given time, no matter the situation the redhead wouldn't stir in his slumber. Sleep never came easy for _her_. Her mind would refuse to rest. Instead, she would lay awake at night, thinking - worrying, about what was yet to come. Her thoughts were often plagued with all sorts of theories and doubts, and tonight was no exception.

Shuffling closer to Harry, she wrapped an arm around his waist and closed her eyes. She recalled his earlier fit, the way his entire body shook and the way he clutched his scar as if it had burned him, how his nimble fingers clawed at it, in an attempt to peel it off.

She shuddered.

If her suspicions were correct and Voldemort did try to access Harry's mind, things were about to take a very nasty turn. He was growing more powerful as the days went on - powerful enough to render Harry unconscious without even touching him. What if one day he entered Harry's mind and learned about their knowledge of horcruxes? What if he made more? They simply couldn't let that happen, it was a risk they couldn't afford.

Harry was the key to defeating Voldemort. If they wanted to survive, he'd _have_ to learn to block him out. But he didn't have to do it alone. Maybe, if Hermione also took occlumency lessons, they would have a better outcome of winning the war. After all, she was the first person the Death Eaters would happily interrogate if it ever came down to it. Plus, Harry needed all the help he could get. If he didn't understand a concept, she could easily explain it to him. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced.

Perhaps she could suggest it to Dumbledore tomorrow morning. He had already arranged a meeting with the trio to discuss the latest development about horcruxes. All she had to do was slip it into the conversation. She didn't think it too hard.

With that thought in mind, the earlier tension she had felt resided. To the sound of Ron's restful snoring, Hermione hugged Harry tighter and fell into slumber at last.


End file.
